A Little Romance
by Anne Khushrenada
Summary: Romance with a side of comedy. New Years' Eve at the Khushrenada mansion. A ML contest/challenge fic, starring Treize Khushrenada and Lady Anne.


Title: A Little Romance  
Gundam_Wing_Fanfiction ML contest  
Author: Anne Khushrenada  
Warnings: Waaaay AU, sap, with maybe a side of lime,   
and some Wild Turkey. :)  
Genre: Romantic comedy  
Disclaimer: You know and I know that I don't own   
Gundam Wing.   
  
December 31, 5:00 P.M.  
AC 202  
Luxemburg City, Luxemburg  
The Khushrenada Mansion  
  
Wineglass in hand, Lady Anne surveyed the Khushrenada   
mansion's ballroom, and nodded in satisfaction. Her   
husband, she had learned in the years since his   
return from death, since their marriage and the birth   
of their daughters, threw quite the party when the   
opportunity presented itself. His New Years' parties,   
however, were by far the best, events looked forward   
to by friends and family alike.  
  
The decoration, as always, was perfect, understated   
yet lovely. As she gazed out upon the polished silver   
candlesticks, the bowls and vases filled with roses   
from the greenhouse, the freshly waxed hardwood   
floor, Anne smiled. And smiled again as she felt the   
familiar touch of her husband's hands upon her   
shoulders.  
  
With a contented sigh she leaned back into his   
embrace. "Does it meet with your approval, my lady?"  
  
Anne turned to face him, her smile touching her eyes   
now. "It's perfect, Treize."  
  
His Excellency Treize Khushrenada, Sovereign of the   
World Nation, Duke of Romafeller, kissed her forehead   
lightly. "What are you wearing tonight?"  
  
"Let me surprise you," she said.  
  
Treize smiled. "As you wish."  
  
The ballroom door opened, and Mariemaia stuck her   
head in. "Mama? Daddy?"  
  
Treize kissed his wife deeply upon the lips before   
either of them turned to answer their daughter.  
  
"You do that just to torment her," Anne accused   
quietly, her tone teasing. Mari was at that age where   
she preferred not to dwell on or see any evidence of   
the more romantic aspects of her parents'   
relationship.  
  
"On the contrary," Treize replied. "I do it because I   
simply cannot get enough of you." Raising his voice,   
he called out, "Yes, Mari, what is it?"  
  
"Alice is here to pick up Vivi and Theresé,"   
Mariemaia said. "And-"  
  
"Mama, Theresé and I want to stay for the party,   
can't we, please?"  
  
Seven-year-old Viviane raced into the ballroom,   
trailed by her more timid twin, Theresé.  
  
"Please, Mama," Theresé said quietly.  
  
Anne smiled and shook her head. "No, darlings. You   
two are going to go with Alice, and you'll have a   
party of your own with all of your friends. The party   
here is for grownups."  
  
"We don't wanna go..." Vivi said.  
  
"That's the way the cookie crumbles. You'd hate it   
anyway," Mariemaia said conspiratorially to her   
younger sisters. "I wish I could go with you guys.   
It's going to be just awful- lots of quiet music and   
boring conversation- and all this *kissing* at   
midnight..."  
  
"Ick," said Vivi. "Okay...we'll go. C'mon, Theresé...   
'Bye, Mama, Daddy." Taking hold of her twin's hand,   
Vivi dashed out of the room, and Theresé followed.  
  
Mariemaia leaned back against the door and shook her   
head, smiling as she watched them go.   
  
Alice McKenzie-Walker brushed past Mari and stepped   
into the ballroom. "Gawd," she said, "this looks like   
a royal party, alright... Hope you all have a lovely   
time tonight."  
  
"I'm sure we will," Anne told her. "Thank you again   
for taking the little ones."  
  
"Least I can do," Alice replied. "Besides, I really   
like the kids. *Mine* can drive me a bit crazy, but   
yours are so...dignified."  
  
Mariemaia burst out laughing. "Oh, Aunt Alice, you   
have *no* idea."  
  
"Yes, and let's not tell her, either," Treize said.   
"Least she bring them *back*."  
  
"Auntie Alice, Auntie Alice... Vivi hit me!"  
  
"Did not!"  
  
"Did SO..."  
  
"Ah," said Alice. "Duty calls." She bowed. "Your   
Highness, Lady. Mariemaia."  
  
"Alright, *break it up*," they heard Alice yell as   
she hurried down the corridor.  
  
Treize and Anne smiled at one another. He leaned in   
to whisper something to her, at which she raised an   
eyebrow, but quickly nodded.  
  
"Do we have time?" Mariemaia heard her mother ask as   
they headed out into the hall.  
  
"We'll *make* time," Treize said, almost roughly,   
before he lifted Anne into his arms and began to   
carry her up the stairs.  
  
"Treize-! Put me down!" Despite her protests, Anne's   
voice held about it a pleased, loving tone, and it   
was clear she didn't truly want to be put down.  
  
Shaking her head, Mariemaia followed after them,   
slowly so as not to see anything she didn't want to.  
  
"I'm leaving now," she called loudly up the stairs.   
"I'm going to cousin Dorothy's. See you guys around   
eight."  
  
Mariemaia knew she'd barely made it when she heard   
her father's voice as she skidded into the hall and   
dashed out the front door, soft words certainly not   
intended for *her*: "One can do quite a bit in two   
hours, wouldn't you say?"  
  
And her mother's reply as Mari slammed the door   
quickly: "Ah, true. But two can do more, lover. Here,   
let me show you."  
  
* * *  
  
December 31, 7:59 P.M.  
AC 202  
  
Anne made her way downstairs, one hand holding the   
folds of her black gown up so that it didn't drag on   
the steps. Treize had given her the dress years ago,   
before the now-infamous Romafeller Ball, and despite   
giving birth to twins, it still fit her very well- as   
Treize's appreciative gaze from the foot of the   
stairs clearly indicated.  
  
"Am I truly dead this time?" Treize asked softly as   
she paused before him.  
  
"Why do you ask that?"  
  
"Because," he replied, smiling softly, "the vision   
before me clearly cannot be of this world. You are as   
stunning now as ever, if not more so."  
  
"Oh, Treize." She slipped her arm through his, and   
together they walked towards the ballroom.  
  
Halfway there, however, Treize paused beside a   
window, gazing out onto the snow-covered grounds.   
"It's going to be a lovely night," Anne said softly.  
  
"It already is," he replied, turning to draw her into   
his arms. Their lips met quickly, in a kiss that was   
light at first but quickly deepened, growing more   
passionate by the moment.  
  
"Mmm," Anne said, fingers teasing through his hair.   
"Must we put in an appearance at the party at all?"  
  
"Mariemaia will be mortified beyond belief if we   
don't; she'll know where we are."  
  
"True." She paused to push him back against the   
window seat, her lips claiming his and stealing the   
very breath from him in the most pleasant of ways.  
  
"But," Treize continued softly, "I think we can   
afford to be a bit late."  
  
* * *  
  
December 31, 10:00 P.M.  
AC 202  
  
Mariemaia tried not to grin as she observed Duo   
Maxwell pouring the contents of a silver flask into   
the punch bowl. Whistling innocently, Duo gave the   
bowl's contents a stir with the ladle, then drifted   
off.  
  
She couldn't keep from laughing for long, however, as   
the level in the bowl began to diminish, mostly at   
the hands of her parents' stuffier aristocratic   
friends.  
  
"Hey, kid," said Duo as he drifted over to her. "Want   
a drink?"  
  
"Thanks, Duo, but my father would kill me." Mariemaia   
laughed. "Besides, anything you carry around in a   
flask is below Daddy's standards anyway."  
  
Duo grinned. "Why do you think I do this every time I   
come here? It's not that your dad doesn't provide the   
booze- it's just that he doesn't provide stuff I   
like."  
  
"And-" Mariemaia sniffed at his glass "-Wild Turkey   
with a side of Kool-Aid is something you like?" She   
shuddered. "Better you than me, pal."  
  
Duo's wife, Hilde, put an arm around Mari's   
shoulders. "Honey, you just need to loosen up a bit."  
  
"Do you smell that?" Milliardo Peacecraft asked as he   
joined them.  
  
Mariemaia laughed. "Trust you, Uncle Milliardo, to   
recognize that one... Duo spiked the punch- don't   
tell my father."  
  
"Tell him what?" Milliardo asked with a grin as he   
headed for the punch.  
  
Mariemaia, as beautiful at fourteen as her father was   
handsome now in his middle years, gazed longingly out   
at the dance floor, where her mother's former   
protégé, Trowa Barton, and his friends danced time   
and again with wives or girlfriends. The ex-Gundam   
pilots were always in attendance at Treize's little   
gatherings; it was one of the things he insisted on.   
  
Dorothy Catalonia, staggering ever so slightly,   
approached her cousin, punch cup in hand.   
"Mari...want to dance?"  
  
"Huh?" said Mariemaia. "Cousin Dorothy?"  
  
"Come on," Dorothy said, taking Mariemaia's arm.   
"Let's go."  
  
December 31, 10:45 P.M.  
AC 202  
  
"Shall we dance, my dear?" Treize asked.  
  
Anne nodded, and accepted the hand he offered her. As   
she slipped into his arms, he kissed her gently. Anne   
smiled, and reached up a hand to touch his cheek. "I   
feel as if I've hardly seen you all night," she said   
softly.  
  
"I do apologize, my dear. Somehow my small intimate   
little gathering of close friends and family seems to   
have become, yet again, the social event of the year.   
I thought it prudent to see who exactly was here."  
  
Anne nodded. "Probably a good idea, Your Highness,"   
she said with a smile. She had, after all, married   
the Sovereign of the World Nation, and this, she had   
decided years ago, gave her a rather singular right   
to tease him about this most newly acquired of his   
various titles.  
  
Treize laughed. "Enough of that."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"What must I do to gain your silence?" he asked,   
hands rubbing gently at the small of her back.  
  
"Give me something else to think of?" she asked   
softly.  
  
"I think I can do that," Treize replied just as   
softly, as he bent to kiss her.  
  
"Do you think we could manage to slip out for a   
moment or two?" Anne asked softly.  
  
"I think I can arrange that, too," Treize replied. He   
led her through the crowd, nodding here, waving there   
as they passed familiar faces, but pausing for no one   
until they reached the double-doors leading to the   
balcony off the ballroom.   
  
Treize held the door for her, then eased it closed   
behind them both.  
  
Outside, it was snowing lightly, and Anne shivered,   
rubbing her bare arms. Immediately Treize removed his   
suit jacket and placed it about her shoulders. His   
arm remained about her after this was done, and she   
rested her head gently against his shoulder.  
  
"I wish we could stay here forever," Anne said   
quietly, savoring the feel of her husband's arms   
around her, the velvet darkness of the night, the way   
the snow dusted over the lawns below them.  
  
Treize kissed the hollow of her throat, and she   
gasped softly as his lips touched her pulse. She held   
him there a moment, refusing to let him raise his   
head.  
  
"If that is what you desire, Anne... I cannot give   
you this night forever, but..."  
  
"Silly," she said. "I want *you* forever."  
  
"That, my dear, you may have."  
  
"Good," she replied, and this time, when their lips   
met, both were surprised that they could not see   
sparks fly. Treize took her face between his hands   
and brought his lips to hers again, gently, taking   
his time about things. Her hands encircled his waist,   
fingers gently caressing the firm muscle beneath his   
shirt. Still as fit and trim as he'd ever been before   
the twins' birth seven years ago, Treize Khushrenada   
had never seemed more attractive to his wife, and she   
resolved yet again, as they held each other in the   
late December chill, never to leave his side.  
  
"My God," Treize whispered against her lips. "I   
didn't think I could still-"  
  
"Shh," Anne interrupted gently. "You'll never loose   
the things that make me love you. Nor the ones that   
make me want to hold you forever, without letting   
go."  
  
"My lady," he replied, gently kissing her forehead.   
In the next instant he spun her, so that her back was   
against the wrought-iron rail. It was cold, but in   
truth she hardly noticed it. Her skin felt afire   
wherever he touched her.  
  
"Treize," she said as he pressed against her, not a   
command to stop but an encouragement to go on. "I   
would rather not freeze to death," she continued,   
"but I cannot face going back through the ballroom."  
  
"Don't worry, love- I won't let you freeze, I   
promise." With that they resumed their passionate   
embrace, their desire for the warmth provided by   
their clothing battling their desire for each   
other... and before either of them could even begin   
to consider the fact that they had nearly a hundred   
guests on the other side of the door, Anne felt him   
suddenly jerk back with a sharp intake of breath.  
  
"Treize," she said, louder this time. "Are you   
alright?"  
  
"I think I hurt something," he replied. "Ow..."  
  
"Poor baby," she said with a soft laugh. "That'll   
teach you to try *this* at your age, in the dead of   
winter no less."  
  
"I'll have you know," he said as he flexed his leg,   
and winced again, "that I am exceptionally fit for my   
age."  
  
"I know," she replied. "Here...can you walk?"  
  
"Barely," Treize replied.  
  
"Lean on me, then. Let's go back before you *really*   
hurt yourself, hmm?"  
  
"You don't consider this really hurt?" he asked as he   
caught the door with his good foot and eased it open.  
  
"Let me put it to you this way, lover. It isn't quite   
hurt enough that I couldn't make you forget it. If I   
wanted to."  
  
She smiled, and helped him back inside.  
  
December 31, 11:59 P.M.  
AC 202  
  
"Mariemaia," Dorothy said, draping an arm around her   
cousin's shoulder and gesturing with her half-full   
punch glass, liquid sloshing over its rim, "how come   
your dad's limping like that?"  
  
Mari looked towards the bar, where her father was,   
indeed, limping along on her mother's arm. She sighed   
and shook her head. "Dore," she said at last, "I   
don't want to know, and neither do you. Have another   
drink."  
  
"Mmmkay," said Dorothy, as she rose to refill her   
glass. "You want one?"  
  
"Yeah," said Mariemaia.  
  
"It's almost time!" Duo called out.  
  
Mariemaia hurried after Dorothy to claim the dredges   
of the punch bowl. "I'm going to need a drink in   
about ten seconds here..."  
  
"Ten!" the assembled guests cried out.  
  
"Nine!"  
  
"Eight!"  
  
"Seven more seconds," Anne whispered to Treize, "and   
they'll either be leaving or busy passing out." She   
continued, "Think you can make it upstairs?"  
  
"Seven!"  
  
"She's not driving, is she?" Duo asked with a glance   
at Dorothy.  
  
"No," said Hilde, "and neither are you."  
  
"Six!"  
  
"Alright," Lucrezia Noin-Peacecraft said, snatching a   
glass from her husband. "You've had enough. This   
one's mine."  
  
"Five!"  
  
"Woman, you're thinking about kissing me, aren't   
you?" Wufei asked Sally.  
  
"Try and stop me, Wufei."  
  
"Four!"  
  
"Dorothy's kind of cute when she's drunk," Quatre   
remarked to Trowa.  
  
"You think so?" Mariemaia asked. "Then take her home   
with you- please?"  
  
"Three!"  
  
"Am I the only one of this lot still at least   
somewhat sober?" Treize asked. He surveyed the   
ballroom, ignoring the stabbing pains shooting   
through his leg. "Mariemaia, dear... see to it those   
who aren't fit to drive, don't, alright?"  
  
"And where will you be while I'm doing this?"  
  
"None of your business, young lady. Don't sass me."  
  
"He pulled something," said Anne with a soft laugh.  
  
"Two!"  
  
"Did you ever get the feeling you were hearing much   
more than you needed to know?" Mariemaia asked of no   
one in particular.  
  
"Ease up on them, Mariemaia," Sally told her. "Be   
happy for them."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"They've been married almost a decade, and they've   
still got that spark. Boy, have they ever got it,"   
Sally went on, as Mariemaia's parents began their New   
Years' kiss a few seconds early.  
  
"One!"  
  
"Happy New Year!" the various guests exclaimed, some   
sober and some not, several passing out after, or   
during, this final cheer.  
  
Treize made an attempt to sweep Anne into his arms,   
found that with his injured leg he couldn't hold her   
weight, and settled for departing the ballroom arm-  
in-arm, each of them collecting friends' and   
relations' car keys.  
  
"Mariemaia," Anne called over her shoulder,   
"Darling... don't wait up."  
  
Mariemaia turned beet red. "*Mother*!"  
  
  



End file.
